Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Chile and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing These Immortal Souls to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Schoolly D. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pop Group,
Soft Cell,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Trojans,
The Monks,
OOIOO,
The Smoke,
The Sonics,
KRS-One,
The Index,
Inner City,
DNA,
The Gun Club,
Traffic Nightmare,
DJ Style,
Laurel Aitken,
Intrusion,
Surgeon,
cv313,
Warsaw,
The Young Rascals,
Jandek,
Half Japanese,
Roxette,
Piero Umiliani,
Fad Gadget,
Icehouse,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Eric B and Rakim,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Franke,
Eddi Front,
Bootsy Collins,
The Doors,
Harpers Bizarre,
Skriet,
The Pretty Things,
Lou Christie,
Ronnie Foster,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Smiths,
Kas Product,
Pussy Galore,
Nico,
Mr. Review,
Gang Green,
Bluetip,
New York Dolls,
Deepchord,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tim Buckley,
Mad Mike,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bad Manners,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Warren Ellis,
Bob Dylan,
Drive Like Jehu,
Blancmange,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.